


A Night To Remember

by respect_the_boomerang_arrow



Series: *sips butterbeer* could be gayer [4]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Crossdressing, Disappointed Hermione Granger, F/M, Gen, Hermione Left Them Unattended, NO RON/HARRY, Nonbinary Harry Potter, Ron Weasley Is Underappreciated, Ron Weasley is a Good Friend, Straight Cis Ally Ron Weasley, Yule Ball, doesn't quite realize it yet tho, minnie mcg gettin mad marauder flashbacks tho, they have the energy of drunk frat boys, what should've happened
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-09
Updated: 2020-06-09
Packaged: 2021-03-03 19:55:12
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,409
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24621199
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/respect_the_boomerang_arrow/pseuds/respect_the_boomerang_arrow
Summary: Two teenage Gryffindors without a date to the Yule Ball and you're telling me this wouldn't've happened?
Relationships: Ron Weasley & Harry Potter, pre Hermione Granger/Ron Weasley
Series: *sips butterbeer* could be gayer [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1728940
Comments: 10
Kudos: 196





	A Night To Remember

Hermione huffed and stomped off. 

_'Well, that could've gone better,'_ Harry thought.

"I don't understand why she wouldn't've just gone with us," Ron pouted. "Say, if _you_ were a girl, _you_ would go with me, right?"

Harry grinned. "'Course, mate. You'd do the same, right?"

"Duh. I don't know what her problem is th-" Ron stopped mid-word, a manic glint in his eye.

Most of the time, it was easy for Harry to forget about Ron and the twins growing up together, minus the whole arachnophobia thing. However, in that exact moment, Harry was suddenly reminded of the relation.

" _Harry,_ " he gasped. "Harry, mate, I've had the most brilliant idea. What if- what if we went to the ball _together_?"

As easy as it is for one to forget the effect of being raised with two mischievous, prank-loving twins, it is just as easy to forget the effect of being Harry _Potter_ , the son of James Potter, the (mostly self-proclaimed, but not entirely undeserving) king of pranks. Some things, for all intents and purposes, _run in the blood_.

"Mate," Harry smirked. "What if we take it up a notch? What if we did it in _drag_?"

* * *

Planning wasn't easy, as they were trying to throw nearly everyone off the scent of said plan. The pair made the joint decision of enlisting Ginny and Moaning Myrtle into the prank, a decision they soon found to be fortuitous, as they had no idea about makeup and fasion, nor a place to get ready.

"Do I really need a beat-up face?" Ron complained, trying to simultaneously blink and not blink as Ginny attacked him with a mascara wand about 4 hours before the ball started.

" _Yes_ , now hold _still_."

Harry leaned back from where he was laying on a blanket (stol- _borrowed_ from the dorm room) as Myrtle giggled. 

"There," Ginny stepped back and pulled out her wand, casting yet _another_ spell that was _apparently_ supposed to make the makeup water-proof. "Here's your dress, go put it on in that stall."

Ron changed quickly before stepping out of the stall. Harry cracked up. "Blimey mate, think you're missing something," he shot a hair-growth charm, making Ron's hair fall down his back in wide, loose curls.

Ron squeaked and rushed to the mirror. "Bloody hell, that's jarring. I look like a girl. Sod that, I look like an _attractive_ girl!"

Harry laughed. "Imagine the look on their faces! Ron- no, _Ronnie_ Weasley!"

"Don't know why _you're_ laughing, _Harrie_ ," Ginny grinned sweetly. "You're next."

He let out a "very manly" squeal as he was yanked towards the stool in the middle of the room.

* * *

"Shh," Ron snickered, stumbling over the hem of the sparkling beige dress Ginny transfigured from his dress robes. 

"You shush," Harry said, stifling his own laughter as the two swayed their way to the Great Hall in kitten heels.

"Excuse me, young ladies. You can't be over here," they turned to face Professor McGonagall. "This is where the champions and their dates are- supposed- to-" she trailled off, stuttering to a stop. "Mr. Potter? _Mr. Weasley_? Wha- Well- In all my days-"

"Actually, Professor," Ron stopped her with an air of confidence, tossing his curls over his shoulder in a flip he'd been practicing for at least 20 minutes earlier that night. "It's _Ms._ Weasley tonight."

Professor McGonagall stood still for a moment before bursting into laughter. "Good heavens, it's like James and Sirius all over again," she mused to two gaping in front of her as she wiped her eyes. "Well, nevermind that now. Too late to change, I suppose. In you get," she shooed them to the doors.

Professor McGonagall, who they noticed was wearing dress robes of red tartan and a rather ugly wreath of thistles around the brim of her hat, told them to wait on one side of the doors while everyone else went inside; they were to enter the Great Hall in procession when the rest of the students had sat down. 

Fleur Delacour and Roger Davies stationed themselves nearest the doors; Davies looked so stunned by his good fortune in having Fleur for a partner that he could hardly take his eyes off her. Fleur, however noticed Harry and Ron. "Meesteir Potter?"

Fleur was interrupted by an annoyed voice. "Harry James Potter, what've you done _this_ time?" They turned to see a girl marching towards them with a rather confused, yet obedient nonetheless Viktor Krum in tow. It was Hermione, but she didn’t look like Hermione at all. 

She had done something with her hair; it was no longer bushy but sleek and shiny, and twisted up into an elegant knot at the back of her head. She was wearing robes made of a floaty, periwinkle-blue material, and she was holding herself differently, somehow — or maybe it was merely the absence of the twenty or so books she usually had slung over her back. 

Harry met Ron's eyes. "Well you see-

"You said you wouldn't go-"

"- so he said-"

"- would be better to go together-"

"-and it's not against the _rules_ -"

"- so then he bet me-"

"- said we'd go in drag-"

"- and we figured why not."

They grinned, unaware how much they resembled the twins in that moment. 

"Besides," Harry continued, batting his elongated, fake eyelashes. "McGonagall already said it was alright."

She pinched the bridge of her nose. "I leave the two of you alone for _one minute_ -"

Professor McGonagall cut in and told the champions and their partners to get in line in pairs and to follow her. They did so, and everyone in the Great Hall applauded as they entered (most gaping at Harry and Ron) and started walking up toward a large round table at the top of the Hall, where the judges were sitting.

The walls of the Hall had all been covered in sparkling silver frost, with hundreds of garlands of mistletoe and ivy crossing the starry black ceiling. The House tables had vanished; instead, there were about a hundred smaller, lantern-lit ones, each seating about a dozen people.

  
Harry and Ron swayed, clutching onto each other for balance as they made their way to the table.

Dumbledore smiled happily as the champions approached the top table, but Karkaroff watched with narrowed eyes as Krum and Hermione drew nearer. Ludo Bagman, tonight in robes of bright purple with large yellow stars, was clapping as enthusiastically as any of the students; and Madame Maxime, who had changed her usual uniform of black satin for a flowing gown of lavender silk, was applauding them politely, eyeing the pair of Gryffindors with a critical look. But Mr. Crouch, Harry suddenly realized as Ron nudged him, was not there. The fifth seat at the table was occupied by Percy Weasley. 

When the champions and their partners reached the table, Percy drew out the empty chair beside him, staring pointedly at them as his left eye twitched. Harry took the hint and sat down next to Percy, who was wearing brand-new, navy-blue dress robes and an expression of disbelief.

"What happened?" He immediately asked after they took their seats. "Did the twins get you with a hex or something?"

"Nope," Ron smirked as Percy's jaw dropped. "Hermione wouldn't go with us -" down the table, Hermione's eye twitched as she pretended to ignore them. "- so we decided to go together."

"A-And the look?" Percy fumbled with his glasses, polishing them with a handkerchief.

"We wanted to go all out, mate," Harry leaned in a bit towards him.

"Yeah, we had to look our best, didn't we?" Ron said with a matching expression.

"Merlin," gasped Percy. "You're like the twins without, somehow, the little bit of shame they apparently _do_ have."

"Anyway," Harry looked at him. "Nevermind us; why are _you_ here?"

Percy sat up and placed his glasses upon his nose with a flourish that looked rehearsed. “I’ve been promoted. I’m now Mr. Crouch’s personal assistant, and I’m here representing him.”

“Why didn’t he come?” Harry asked. He wasn’t looking forward to being lectured on cauldron bottoms all through dinner. 

_'At least Ron's here to suffer with me,'_ he thought.

“I’m afraid to say Mr. Crouch isn’t well, not well at all. Hasn’t been right since the World Cup. Hardly surprising — overwork. He’s not as young as he was — though still quite brilliant, of course, the mind remains as great as it ever was. But the World Cup was a fiasco for the whole Ministry, and then, Mr. Crouch suffered a huge personal shock with the misbehavior of that house-elf of his, Blinky, or whatever she was called. Naturally, he dismissed her immediately afterward, but - well, as I say, he’s getting on, he needs looking after, and I think he’s found a definite drop in his home comforts since she left. And then we had the tournament to arrange, and the aftermath of the Cup to deal with - that revolting Skeeter woman buzzing around - no, poor man, he’s having a well earned, quiet Christmas. I’m just glad he knew he had _someone_ he could rely upon to take his place.” His chin lifted a little higher into the air.

Ron leaned a bit closer to Harry's ear and muttered, "D'y'think he's stopped calling Percy 'Weatherby' yet?"

They met eyes and looked away with muffled snickers.

There was no food as yet on the glittering golden plates, but small menus were lying in front of each of them. Harry picked his   
up uncertainly and looked around - there were no waiters. Ron nudged Harry, gesturing towards Dumbledore, who looked carefully down at his own menu, then said very clearly to his plate, “Pork chops!” 

"Wicked," murmured Ron as pork chops appeared. 

As the group began to eat and make idle small-talk, Harry began to feel a great bit of gratitude for Ron's wild idea. The dinner passed smoothly with the two paying attention to little more than messing with each other's dresses, trying to kick off the other's heels, and snickering at food in hair much longer than they were used to.

When all the food had been consumed, Dumbledore stood up and asked the students to do the same. Then, with a wave of his wand, all the tables zoomed back along the walls leaving the floor clear, and then he conjured a raised platform into existence along the right wall. A set of drums, several guitars, a lute, a cello, and some bagpipes were set upon it.

The Weird Sisters now trooped up onto the stage to wildly enthusiastic applause; they were all extremely hairy and dressed in black robes that had been artfully ripped and torn. They picked up their instruments, and Harry, who had been so interested in watching them that he had almost forgotten what was coming, suddenly realized that the lanterns on all the other tables had gone out, and that the other champions and their partners were standing up. 

“You ready, _Harrie_?” Ron grinned, holding out his hand. 

Harry laughed and tripped over his dress as he stood up. "Definitely."

The Weird Sisters struck up a slow, mournful tune as the two got into position: one hand clasped, the other against the other's shoulder.

 _'Truly, I don't think I've ever had this much fun in my entire life,'_ thought Harry, stumbling in heels and a long, frilly dress with a similarly dressed best friend in front of what felt like the whole Wizarding World. The two Gryffindors - already bad when it came to dancing - were atrocious, tripping over hems and feet and heels that felt stories taller than they really were.

Harry heard the final, quavering note from the bagpipe with a small bit of disappointment. The Weird Sisters stopped playing, applause filled the hall once more, and Harry and Ron, hands still clasped, curtsied clumsily before tottering towards an abandoned table.

"And what-"

"-do we-"

"-have here?"

"Ta Fred, George," said Ron, fanning himself a bit. "It's bloody hot in here, innit?"

"I know! And my feet are so sore - how do girls _do_ it?" Harry leant down and unhooked a heel as the twins stared in amusement.

"It is _called_ ," Hermione said from behind them. " _Cushioning charms_ , you absolute _fools_."

The three laughed as the two in drag looked at each other shocked.

"Why didn't we think about that?" Ron slumped forward onto the table, banging his forehead a bit.

"Say, Hermione," Harry looked at her, fluttering his darkened lashes innocently. "Know any good ones?" 

"No, no, _no_! I am _not_ helping you - you do stupid things, you deal with the consequences. I'm going now; Viktor's gone to get drinks and - despite myself - I cannot but _hope_ someone has spiked the punch." She shook her head, trotting off.

"Don't worry, boys -" one of the twins began. Harry unknowingly squirming a bit at being grouped with Ron in the "male" department.

"- we've got your back."

Harry and Ron sighed in relief as their feet instantly felt better after the spells were cast on their shoes.

"We'd best get going now -"

"- don't want to ditch our dates this early!"

The twin terrors swept away. Harry strained his ears, listening to their conversation as they did.

"-should've done that ourselves!"

"We'll just have to wait until next year to upstage their little stunt, brother dear. Gotta go out with a _bang_ , right?"

Harry shuddered at that and turned to Ron, a comment on the tip of his tongue, before falling short at the look on Ron's face. He followed the wistful gaze across the room before- Ah. He was looking at Hermione laughing next to Krum.

"Alright then, mate?" Harry called gently.

Ron blinked, focusing back on Harry. "Huh? Oh, yeah, I was just, er, tryna get used to the whole dress thing. Bit odd wearing one, huh?"

Harry hummed. "I dunno. Not too bad, I think. Rather nice once you get used to the weight of the thing and the 'kick-to-step' bit, yeah?"

"Er," Ron looked thoughtfully at Harry. "Yeah, I guess."

There was a slight glint in Ron's eye as he stared at his best mate, but said mate failed to notice as he played with the shimmering, thin outer layer of his emerald green dress.

' _Hmm_ ,' Ron thought before filing it away in his mental _"Odd Things Harry Does/Says That Are A Tad Sus, But Relatively Unimportant"_ cabinet and pulled Harry to his feet so they could wobble their way over to get some punch.

**Author's Note:**

> certain bits are taken directly from the fourth book.
> 
> please let me know if I have misrepresented any and all characters in this work in a way that is offensive. if I have, it was not my intention and I will do my best to correct it.


End file.
